


The Great Movie Experiment (Tony Introduces Steve to Modern Film)

by Bandanamonkey



Series: Happy Steve Bingo [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Films, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Team as Family, movies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16018151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandanamonkey/pseuds/Bandanamonkey
Summary: “Are you two seriously watching this again? You know films have been made since the 1940s, right?” Tony asked.“1939,” Steve, the little smartass, corrected without taking his eyes off the screen.Barnes didn't bother looking at Tony as he answered, "Steve's a friend of Dorothy; course he loves it."orTony is tired of seeing Steve sit and watch the same movie over and over. He introduces Steve to newer films and discovers that his boyfriend is incredibly picky. Bucky is just along for the ride.





	The Great Movie Experiment (Tony Introduces Steve to Modern Film)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "movies" square on my Happy Steve Bingo card.  
> Rated for language and very brief fictional violence.

Tony had just accidentally zapped himself with his prototype of Natasha’s new tasers when the elevator door to his workshop opened and someone entered. Probably Steve with a sandwich, he figured, and didn’t bother to turn around.

“Hey sweetheart, almost done with this. Just fried myself a little, getting nice and crispy for you.”

When there was no response, Tony set down the taser and spun his stool around to see what was going on. Had he accidentally just called Thor ‘sweetheart’ or something equally embarrassing? But there were no gorgeous six-foot-something blonds standing in his workshop, just Steve’s annoying dog. Tony glared at the Husky for a solid thirty seconds before he realized that he wasn’t going to win the staring contest.

“Jarvis, did you bring the dog down here?”

“No, Sir,” Jarvis’ smooth voice answered from the ceiling. “Master Kilroy appears to have learned how to operate the elevator.”

“Oh, that’s great. And don’t call the dog ‘Master,’ that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Tony stood and clapped his hands. “Come on Cujo, we’re going back upstairs. I’m not letting you cruise around my tower whenever you want. Oh, also? You stink.” Tony grabbed Kilroy’s collar, which was stylized with little Captain America shields printed on it, and hauled him into the elevator.

The ride up was brief but it gave Kilroy just enough time to slam his side into Tony’s black jeans and get fur all over the place. Tony stared, resigned, and hauled ass out of the elevator once they arrived to the communal living area.

“Steve, your stupid dog learned how to use the elevator!”

Steve was sprawled on one end of the couch with Barnes on the other. Their legs were tangled together like jellyfish and Barnes was trying to pull off one of Steve’s socks with his toes. The television in the background showed Dorothy dancing with Scarecrow.

“Not so stupid then, is he? But good timing; Sam was just about to go out for a run. Kilroy, go find Sam!”

Of course the damn dog listened to Steve and took off sprinting down the hall. Tony tried to brush off some of the fur as he approached the seating area. He rolled his eyes at the movie.

“Are you two seriously watching this again? You know films have been made since the 1940s, right?”

“1939,” Steve, the little smartass, corrected without taking his eyes off the screen.

Tony planted a big, wet kiss on Steve’s forehead on his way over to a leather armchair. He got through about five minutes of the musical before he sighed and threw his head back dramatically.

“Barnes, _you_ can’t seriously want to watch this movie once a week. I saw you watching Kindergarten Cop the other day.”

Barnes cracked a peanut with his metal hand, let the mess drop to the floor atop a growing pile of peanut shells, and shoved the remains into his mouth. His toes got ahold of Steve’s sock and he began to pull it off, but Steve wriggled away. He didn’t bother looking at Tony as he answered, “He’s never let me pick the movie. Anyway, Steve’s a friend of Dorothy; course he loves it.”

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“I can’t deal with this. Have you watched any modern movies apart from that Lord of the Rings marathon with Bruce where you paused every two seconds and bitched about how it wasn’t exactly like the books?” Tony asked Steve. “Anything at all?”

“Not anything I cared about,” Steve shrugged. “Natasha made me watch something called _The Room_ and it was terrible. Clint made me watch something called _Justice League_ and I fell asleep. I don’t have much free time and I’d rather just watch something I already know I like.”

Tony could understand the reasoning there, but it seemed like Steve had put his stubborn hat on when it came to movies and Tony wanted to fix that. He pursed his lips, glanced over at Barnes, _back me up on this one, Robocop,_ and formulated a plan.

“Alright,” Tony said. “Okay. How about this: I finish watching Wizard of Oz with you, then you have to let me show you a few of _my_ favorite films. Deal? We’re gonna figure out what you like. You can’t sit around watching the same movie over and over like a three year old.”

Steve, who had been mouthing along with the words, shot Tony one of his Star-Spangled Man With a Plan stares. Then he looked at Barnes, who shrugged and nodded.

“Alright,” Steve capitulated. “But you _owe me_ later tonight.”

“Gross,” said Barnes through a mouthful of peanuts.

Tony smirked.

###

While they finished up The Wizard of Oz, Tony applied his data and came up with a list of movies. He knew Steve pretty damn well now: They’d been having sex for a couple of years and had been in a committed relationship for five months, three days, and seven hours. He knew what Steve liked, what made him laugh, and what caused that little nose wrinkle of disgust. So Tony chose a film from almost every major genre out there and lined them up in his queue with the knowledge that Steve had to enjoy at _least_ one of them.

Once the movie was over and they’d had a pee break, they settled back in to watch Tony’s first choice, _Inglourious Basterds_.

Tony knew that a Tarantino film was a risky first pick, but he also knew that Steve liked reading fictionalized accounts of World War Two. Neither Steve nor Barnes had compunctions about movie violence and Tony would bet all of his real estate holdings that Steve would be a sucker for a good revenge tale.

As the film progressed, Barnes’ eyes and smile widened more and more while Steve just quirked an eyebrow when one of the characters beat a Nazi to death with a baseball bat.

“I should sue this Tarantino fella; I was the original Bear Jew,” Barnes drawled.

Tony snorted. “I don’t doubt that for a second, Terminator.”

“Oh, get the hell outta here, Buck,” Steve burst out, his Brooklyn drawl making itself known for a few hard-on inducing seconds. “You ain’t so slick.”

“ _You_ get outta here, runnin’ around in your spangly tights!”

“ _Boys_ ,” Tony cut in, and the pair stopped poking at one another. Barnes used the moment to finally peel Steve’s sock off. He wadded it up and stuffed it under his cushion, supposedly saving it for future ammunition (probably to throw at Wilson).

It was at the midway point when Steve threw his hands up into the air and declared that the movie was stupid and unrealistic and that he was Done. He pulled out his sketchbook from under Barnes’ ass and hunched over it to work on a creepy drawing of the Wicked Witch, completely disregarding the spectacle of violence and Brad Pitt in front of him.

Alright, so the first attempt wasn’t a success. At least Barnes was enjoying himself, Tony thought with a shrug. He settled back and tried not to feel too disappointed that he hadn’t been immediately successful.

The movie finished, Barnes declared that it was the best thing ever, and Tony moved on to the next film. Everyone liked Indiana Jones, right?

Everyone except Steve, it turned out. They only got forty minutes into it before Steve gave up (“ _He’s awful handsome, but the rest of it looks ugly and it’s boring. I don’t like it._ ”). Tony sighed and reevaluated his list, adding _Pleasing Aesthetics_ and _Harrison Ford_.

The obvious next choice was Star Wars. Tony started it up, grinning triumphantly when Steve went wide-eyed at the visuals. Of course, easy peasy. Who didn’t like—

Steve turned to him with those big blue eyes and an earnest grin on his face. “Golly! Did all this happen in the nineteen sixties when we went to the moon?”

Tony’s head snapped over to Steve so quickly that he damn near gave himself whiplash. _No. No fucking way, he’s not dumb, he’s Captain America, master tactician, legendary strategist, destroyed all of us when we played Risk—_

“Don’t be an asshole, Stevie,” Barnes said as he stuffed a Funyun into his mouth. “Don’t worry, Stark. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. _You_ ,” he poked Steve hard in the ribs with his toe, “just tell him you don’t like it. Don’t be a punk.”

“Spoilsport,” Steve muttered, then turned to Tony and smiled kindly. “Sorry, Tony. This space stuff isn’t for me.”

“Alright, ix-nay the sci-fi. Got it.” Tony turned the movie off despite Barnes’ protests and decided that it was time to bring out the big guns. He told Jarvis to play Forrest Gump and sat back with a cocky grin. There was no way in hell Steve wouldn’t love the classic underdog story of a little guy overcoming life’s hurdles and making something great of himself. That was Steve’s whole gimmick, right? Why wouldn’t he like it?

Well, Tony learned about forty minutes later that Steve _did_ like the underdog story. The problem was when Steve decided that Jenny was a bully and his “Fight Me” instincts revved up. Any time she appeared on screen he got so heated that they couldn’t hear any of the dialogue. After Steve had finished his fourth rant, he leapt off of the couch and marched into the kitchen, proclaiming that he was going to make sandwiches.

“This isn’t exactly a winner, is it?” Tony asked Barnes.

Barnes crunched down on a stack of Pizza Pringles. “Nope.”

“Should we move on?”

“He’s angry-feeding,” Barnes explained. “Got that from his ma. Next step is angry-jogging, and then you’ll really lose him because after that is angry-drawing.”

Tony ran a couple of fingers over his goatee and thought for a few minutes. Alright, he had to keep with the milder stuff because the action clearly hadn’t worked. And he _definitely_ had to avoid bully characters if he wanted to actually hear any of the damn dialogue. The Wizard of Oz was a musical at its core, so maybe something from that genre? Nothing depressing like Les Miserables, though. Something more like—

“The Sound of Fucking Music!”

It ticked all the boxes. Musical, upbeat (for the most part), World War Two without any extreme action, lovely visuals, and Julie Andrews. Tony loaded the movie up and vibrated with excitement until Steve came storming back into the room with a platter of sandwiches.

“Eat.” Steve slammed the platter down on the coffee table, grabbed a sandwich packed full of Italian cured meats, and shoved it under Tony’s nose. Tony accepted it gingerly, unwilling to argue with Steve, and shared a comradely glance with Barnes when Steve pushed a tuna on rye into Barnes’ metal hand. Steve himself had recently upgraded from baloney on white bread to mortadella on a roll, and he shoved half the thing into his mouth and glared at the TV.

“We have another movie now,” Tony offered after the three of them had sat chewing in dead silence for a few minutes. “Musical.”

Steve grunted and nodded toward the TV. “Let’s do it,” he said, jaw set.

“Let’s hear it for Captain America,” Barnes drawled. “Ready to fight fictional characters with his mighty shield.”

“Comments like that are why I never bother toasting your sandwiches,” Steve said. “Start the movie, Tony, come on.”

Tony had a feeling that Steve was going into full-on Captain America Mode, so he just started the film and hoped that Maria’s shenanigans would calm Steve back down. Unfortunately, after Steve began snoring twenty minutes into the movie, Tony had very little hope (and patience) remaining. He grit his teeth, called out to Jarvis to switch to his last resort film, and sat back as Steve was poked awake in time to watch the presentation of Simba to the animals of Pride Rock.

Disney. Steve was a big sweet teddy bear, so Disney had to work, right?

###

Tony was staring at the ceiling in defeat when Sam returned home with a very wet and very stinky Kilroy.

“Were you productive today?” Tony asked, voice dead.

“Yeah, I stopped by the groomer’s to get his nails clipped and they threw in a free bath,” Sam said with a big grin.

“ _You_ should have taken them up on it,” Barnes snarked without looking over at Sam, who just shrugged and unclipped Kilroy’s leash.

“Go find Uncle Bucky!”

The dog galloped over and jumped on top of Barnes, his wet, hairy body rubbing all over Barnes and the sofa. Barnes squawked and flailed underneath seventy pounds of excited Husky. “You’re gonna regret this one, Wilson!”

“So what are y’all up to?” Sam asked. He sat in a chair next to Tony and squinted at the TV as Simba danced around with his adoptive gay dads. “Lion King? Really? Is the Spiderkid visiting? Or—Oh _shit_ , please tell me you didn’t show this to Thor.”

“No. We’re trying to find movies that Steve actually likes,” Tony explained. “I just need a few and then I can create an algorithm—”

“Algorithm?” Sam laughed. “The hell? You don’t need that. Haven’t you seen his sketchbook?”

“What? Yeah, I guess,” Tony said with a frown. “Anyway, I thought we had him with Disney. Thought he’d get all gooey and we could have some closure and cuddle on the couch watching Cinderella, but Disney screwed us over. As usual. He went to go stress-clean the kitchen about ten minutes ago.”

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the sketchbook that Steve had left on the table. He flicked it open and Tony leaned over to look, knowing that Steve didn’t care if others glanced through his drawings. The Wicked Witch took up a good quarter of the book, with different interpretations of her style, some with large curling horns and others with needle-sharp teeth.  
After her was Nosferatu and Rumpelstiltskin and Red Riding Hood with the wolf hovering over her.

Tony shook his head. “What? Fairy tales? I’m not gonna make him watch Shrek. I’m not gonna make _myself_ watch Shrek.”

“Aren’t you a genius or something? Don’t you have like a billion Ph.Ds?” Wilson asked, eyes shining with amusement.

“I have a billion _dollars_ that I’ll give you if you tell me what I’m missing here.”

Sam leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “You’re about to make me a rich man, Stark,” he said as Steve came back into the room and pulled Kilroy off Bucky.

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for getting the beast washed. Have a nice run?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Sit down, we’re watching a movie.”

“Oh, _God_.” Steve sat on the arm of Tony’s chair and Tony let his hand crawl up the back of his boyfriend’s ill-fitting shirt. “Sam, no more. We’ve been watching terrible movies all day—”

“Don’t worry,” Sam smirked. “You’ll love this one.”

###

“Tony!”

Tony stopped himself from accidentally tasing his own finger and spun around on his stool. He reached out a hand as Steve entered his workshop and smiled when Steve bustled over and gave him a kiss.

“What’s up, babycakes?”

“I get to pick the movie tonight!”

Oh no. The team had been on a rotation for a few months now, ever since the Great Movie Experiment, and no one but Natasha actually enjoyed anything Steve chose. Clint always chose a brainless comedy, Thor liked grand ( _long_ ) historical epics, Natasha either chose low-budget monster schlock or Disney princess films, and Barnes was making them all watch Tarantino’s entire filmography. Steve’s picks were… _well_.

“That’s great,” Tony croaked with a forced grin. “What’s on the bill for tonight, champ?”

Steve grinned and bounced up and down and Tony was momentarily distracted by _pecs-pecs-pecs_. When he forced his eyes to look back up, Steve was beaming down at him with a bit of a manic look in his eye.

“We’re gonna watch _The Exorcist_!” Steve proclaimed, and Tony resigned himself to another night of bad sleep.

Who would’ve guessed that Captain America was a horror junkie?

**Author's Note:**

> If you choose to look up the "Inglourious Basterds" scene mentioned in the fic, please note that it features intense violence, language, and anti-Semitism.  
> Kudos make my work day a little brighter. :)


End file.
